It's been less than an hour since the attack on Maracaibo and reports continue to come in from all sources and factions about the situation there. The fate of the city seems to be up in the air, some reports claim that the outbreak is being contained; others that it is uncontainable.

That had been left behind all of you to focus on the enemy behind all of this; Albert Wesker who had left the area in an FBC Blackhawk and arrived at a jungle military facility under the control of the Umbrella Corporation.

A mixture of BSAA, FBC, DSO, and the Bolivar military were already on site fighting a desperate battle against Umbrella Security Services amongst the buildings of the complex which no doubt leads far underground.

The BSAA Gunship was a force multiplier in this situation and the Russian-made HIND is able to quickly turn the tide for those forces engaged in combat as a salvo of rockets and high-caliber weapons fire removes the USS from their bunkers with ease.

As the chopper sets down amidst the base, forces begin to move inside in pursuit of Albert Wesker including a team of the secretive Black Sword Commandos of the FBC.

Barry Burton offers a thumbs up to everyone as they get out before pulling the chopper back into the air so he can circle the area.

From the direction of the Black Sword Commandos, multiple explosions and screams are heard as a somewhat familiar sight bursts out of the building.

It was Nemesis, upgraded and ready to kick further ass. Likely, it was NOT the same Nemesis that had been faced in Raccoon City or Siberia.. but some of the cybernetics that cover certain portions such as the left eye; speak of prior injuries. Injuries, that some of you here may even remember the locations of...

If it was truly the same B.O.W., it was no doubt far more powerful than anyone had ever imagined.

Caldwell The Parkour King proceeds to jump off the HIND after it landed. Proceeding to wreak havoc across the base. Slamming his fist into one of the Umbrella soldiers that seemed to have missed the memo that they were fleeing and ultimately shattering his skull. Theres even a cutscene of said carnage where the skull is seen being shattered in slow motion. Caldwell spots Nemesis and his jaw drops in horror. "Oh fuck..." he mutters and backs off from the supernatural horror, immediately firing off a 20mm Grenade and unloading a fuckton of bullets into him, not sure if he was damaging him or not, that thing could take more of a beating then even Buck could. And Buck was a KING of getting his shit pushed in. Caldwell retreats to some cover and begins to reload, yelling out "Could use a hand here!" to his comrades and opening fire on the Nemesis again for covering fire.

Aidan comes off the choppa with his pistol out and ready to go... Watching the facility as he moves forward with the rest of the passengers on the Hind.... And as the Nemesis comes out and grenades start flying bullets start flying and screw it! Aidan empties out his pistol into or at least at the Nemesis. "By hand you mean a tank right?"

Rick was glad he was on a helicopter, playing soldier for once. It meant that there was a way out if things got very bad, because he honestly wasn't sure he could handle another Raccoon city, sitting inside a quarentine zone and watching civilization slowly crumble to dust swirling in a maelstrom. So they got out of that zombie infested hell and into the monster infested one. Not that Rick was going to complain exactly how they go there. It wasn't very often Rick was on the sending end of massive ammount of support fire from gunships, watching rockets slaming aganist concrete and machine gun fire turn USS into blood offal. It was a decent way to get confidence up before the helicopter touches down at the base.

Rick turns to those in the helicopter, pulling the charging handle of his carbine. "D-Day, folks! Hit the ground and shoot anything that's wearing red and white on their shoulder or doesn't look human." He leaps off the helicopter, and gives a thumbs up back to Barry. "The two may overlap."

But then the screams start, and they start from the direction of special forces. Which was never a good sign. And Rick thought he could recognize the roaring sound of a monster... a specific monster... a monster that drained the blood from his face and had him firmly, barely squash the urge to run as far away as possible. And when Flight was away, Fight would play.

When he sees Nemesis burst from the building, He doesn't hesitate, rifle going up to his cheek, the trigger pulled again and again and again, attempting to slam rounds into those wounds he /knew/ were there. Those were weaknesses. They had to be. Quickly moving to cover next to Caldwell. "I don't think there's enough help here."

It seems that someone has been doing a lot of training with his weapons, as Nick Fox is moving around like a man possessed. Dual wielding the Samurai Edge pistols, he has taken to engaging with the USS members.

He kicks one of them in the chest, and flips backwards off of him, firing two shots down into him as he rotates around. He lands, rolls backwards, and shoots at a second soldier, opening up on him with several shots until he goes down.

The explosions from the distance give way to the Nemesis. He's seen it once before, way back in Raccoon City, where it shot him in the chest. He's been looking to get some revenge on the thing, and he brings both of his handguns around, opening up with them until they both click empty, and then quickly moving for cover to reload.

And of course, Archene came as well. Albeit behind the more properly armed and weaponized people for reasons that should be clear to anyone, he moved out. The war against the enemy was proceeding as he could expect. Hopefully, nothing far beyond the expected would appear. Or so he wished as he heard numerous explosions.

"...and as expected, something this unexpected happened." He drew his pistol, he knew better than anyone that someone of this caliber should be barely able to do much to something like Nemesis. And every time that thing appeared there was more to it. It was a pain in Raccoon City, got a bit worse in Siberia though there was more firepower to deal with it by then. He then emptied his pistol as he went to take cover.

"Already giving all I have here." Archene replied with a shout as he reloaded his pistol, quickly and efficiently.

Buck is silent as the chopper touches down. He seethes-- it's felt more than seen, the man's brooding expression hidden behind a skull-painted ballistic mask, his shoulders rising and falling beneath the heavy plates of his armored trenchcoat. As the others filter onto the ground, the lumbering brute strides forward, steel-toed boots stomp stomping with a loud echo til he descends.

Emphasizing his presence, Buck draws his sword, the anti-B.O.W. relic known as the Paladin. The light glitters off the blade like moon-gold, and when one of Buck's fat fingers tightens and presses down, electricity arcs to life around the blade. It crackles and hisses-- and Buck, for his part, goes straight for Nemesis. They're old friends, by this point. "Domo arigato, you motherfucker," Buck spits, and it's the only robot reference he knows.

He advances on the monster, Saint George against his dragon, shining sword in hand.

Well, for starters, the alternative would have been jumping out of a low-flying helicopter into a foreign jungle with nothing but a gun he hasn't even figured out the safety on yet. He's white-knuckling that gun for dear life as the chopper touches down, eyes closed tight as he silently mouths what one can only assume is a prayer for deliverance. He's still wearing that tacky Hawaiian shirt, now stained about the underarms with sweat. Somebody has to unbuckle him - he doesn't see who - and suddenly he's out of the chopper, on his feet, a giant sore tropicolorful thumb in the middle of a firefight. This is even worse than Maracaibo!

"How can it be worse?!" Ned screams as he charges away from the firefight toward what he hopes is the way out of the compound. It's every man for himself now! Well, actually, there are two distinct sides to this conflict, while he's the third party candidate whose platform is a bad fashion sense and a claim of being a Very Important Person. There's a barricade of concrete, probably for directing parking, and Ned barrels over it, gun flailing recklessly. As he hits the ground, his glasses fall off of his face, leaving him virtually blind. He pushes them back onto his nose as he rises, gun held out - and realises that he's entered an Umbrella position. Not that he can tell who they are.

The three men slowly turn their faces toward him, and he levels his Samurai Edge back at them, swiveling it between the three. "Don't move!" he orders, voice cracking as the crotch of his khaki pants darkens.

Upon seeing this, the three raise submachine guns. In response, Ned starts squeezing the trigger wildly.

*cliclicliclick*

As mentioned earlier, he hasn't figured out the safety yet - but then shots ring out and the heads of two of the Umbrella security members explode. Bewildered, the third drops his weapon and raises his hands, hitting his knees.

"Th-that's right, you bastard," Nick stammers as sweat pours down his brow. He slowly walks backward, one step at a time, gun levelled at the submissive security man -

Nemesis seems to be reeling from the hail of bullets that is sent flying its way only to end up on the receiving end of some jury-rigged makeshift Rebel Grenade Launcher that wreathes the creature in a halo of fire.

It doesn't go down though and Buck finds himself face to face with the beast even as Caldwell and Stadler find themselves face to face with their boss, Albert Wesker, "Stadler. Caldwell. On me, now." He ordered with direct authority, not knowing they were privy to his deceptions or that they were here for him.

Egomania. That was one of Wesker's biggest flaws and he felt that both William and Rick would follow him without question, the former especially due to the promises he had offered the boy.

Rick has too much going on to see what was obviously some well trained FSO agent in the the Hawaiian shirt holding someone from the base hostage with his weapon. He obviously had good accurcy, so he didn't need to be worried about. He had much bigger fish to fry, it seems. Starting with the man that appeared in front of them.

When Wesker shows up, Rick stiffens up, rifle in his hand. His other one goes into his gear, into the enevelope containing the copies of material Trixie sent him. A picture drops to the ground in front of Wesker. Him meeting with Spencer. With African Bio-terrorists. A sheath of documents that Wesker would recognize as a deposition from P.I.T.E. that he'd been supplying them with Bioweapons. Letting the documents flutter in the hot wind of the jungle and explosions.

"Won't have you shooting us in the back, Wesker. We're not disbanded yet, so I think I still have the authority to releive you of your command. Arrest you, too. Though I don't think you're going to make things that simple."

The world around him erupts in fire. Buck charges through the curtain of smoke pouring from Nemesis as the mutant ignites, wreathed in fire from the hailstorm of grenades-- the flames lick at the choking air, and obscured as it is, the sight of that glowing sword is clear; it burns like mythic Excalibur, its ring clear as it cleaves a crescent arc through the smoke, errant bolts of lightning dancing along its length.

A few grasping tentacles are sliced and shocked, their blackened tips curling like fingers. Buck scores hit after hit on the Nemesis, slicing bone and muscle, flesh and metal-- each hit terribly powerful, enough to cut a normal man in half, only the super-modern materials in the sword's construction keeping it from shattering. Blood spills, and burns, and fills the air with acrid scent, and when Nemesis whirls around, a massive cybernetically-augmented arm catches Buck in the stomach. The blunt trauma punches right through his armor, and sends the behemoth soaring backwards, visibly lifted off the ground.

Ribs snap and he crashes, skidding to a halt, but without missing a beat he's back on his feet.

Caldwell grabs hold of his head, slinging his weapon. "I can't do it Rick. What are we supposed to do when our boss tells us to follow him but he turns out to be evil? You promised we'd be helping people Wesker! This...this isn't helping! This is needless bloodshed! I can't follow someone like you who wants nothing more then to see humanity destroyed. I know what I have to do now." and with that, Caldwell sprouts his tentacles from his back, becoming like the monster he truely is. An enraged animal. Who goes to lash out at Wesker with his tentacles in an attempt to wound him or at the very least, ensare him.

It's no lie, Emma, isn't a fighter. She oddly has a good shot, sometimes, but this stuff isn't where her talents focus. No, this poor Scottish lass is quite likely the weakest here in regard to combat. Considering all the combat she has seen too.

What she is good at, is being a doctor. Hell she has stitched a mans balls together post zombie breakout on the fly. Delivered babies in horrid conditions, so for this her state of mind is solid. She can work in this.

Under her black top and dark brown pants she has armour on, her medkit is slung over her shoulder. Long red hair was put back but strands fall loose causing a delicate hand to move them from her freckled face frequently. With light, graceful steps she stays to the outside for now, looking in with grey-green eyes awaiting a chance to tend to wounded.

Let it never be said that Wimp wasn't thrifty sometimes. How hard is it to excuse yourself to look at a map, and then give directions. Barry might be cool with his flying, but the group Lo was guiding have him kicked out of the chopper with the rest of the crew, confused as they bug out hardcore. Wimp's abandoned in the wake of everything and left to his own devices while a firefight's reigning hell on. "Wow, that's a really big guy." as he stares at mister Nemmie, rubbing his chin and attempting to decide if he should hide or pretend he is a tree. Neither will probably work well for him.

"Imbecile." A refined sounding british accent could be heard by Ned followed by a scream as the Umbrella Soldier who had surrendered to him fell to the ground clutching his face, mouth and eyes wide open in terror as he convulsed and black liquid foamed out of his mouth.

Lord Oswell E. Spencer, looking no older than a man in his forties with a sharp-cut suit worn offered Ned a hand, "Come now, you're needed." He appraised Ned's girth with a sinister smile as he helped the man up.

----

Wesker showed no emotion on his face or behind his dark sunglasses as Richard Stadler refused his orders and began to literally, throw the proof of what he had done in his face, "You have no idea Stadler, you could have been part of what was to come. Caldwell, deal with him."

Wesker actually turned, his trenchcoat swishing behind him, so secure was he in his belief that Caldwell was a puppy, a loyal pawn that would do whatever he said.

Caldwell had idolized him since Raccoon City, he had been akin to an older brother to the impressionable young man; a manipulative older brother who cared nothing for his sibling, but he had been like a brother nonetheless.

The sudden attack from Caldwell shocked Wesker, enough so that he was knocked to the ground by young William Caldwell; the boy who had finally become a man in finding his own moral compass.

----

Nemesis slammed both Buck and Stitch backwards and as Buck was getting up, Nemesis was about to strike a finishing blow; a massive armored tentacle to the skull which would have ended Buck once and for all if not for the sudden intervention of the world's most wanted woman: Alice Abernathy.

The katana's in her hands sliced at the tentacles, buying Buck a moment before she ran towards Stitch and used him as leverage to leap right over him and on top of Nemesis; Katana's digging right into the beasts eyes.

She screamed out, "Finish him, now!" Anyone who had dealt with the troubled woman since Raccoon City would know, she was not her own person anymore.

She was host to something far darker...

---

Around the rest of the base, the Umbrella Security Service begin to rise up as zombies; already infected with the t-Virus before the battle had begun.

The helicopter above circled and Barry reported, "I can't get a clear shot on Nemesis, but you guys have undead rising up all over the perimeter. Watch your backs, I'll do what I can from the air."

Stadler let the empty clip in his rifle drop to the ground. For the moment, he thinks that the order to William was just proof of the rot that went forward, his faint suprise dulled. Exactly how far did the rot go? Was it there since the FBC was started, a poison from above? And if he had been looking for it, could he have stopped it? Thoughts that he had to think in the brief moment as the fresh clip was slapped into the rifle. "We were supposed to be the people who defended civilization. Who stopped cities from turning into monster-infested necropolis. That was always what the FBC was supposed to be. We're almost done; we won't last the week, and I might last far less than that. But I'm going to reclaim that legacy right here. And it looks like Caldwell's with me, no matter what you-

A turn at the sound of something... fleshy from Caldwell, and just frank, unbeleiving staring as tentacles come from his back. So... that. That was what he meant. That was Wesker's new world. The rational part of his brain clamps down aganist the gibbering madness that form inspires. One thing at a time. Compartmentalize. Wesker first. Then see about Caldwell.

Rick turns to Wesker and brings his rifle up, pulling the trigger and sending round after round toward him. Overkill wasn't just preferable in this case. It was a nesseceity.

There is chaos all around theme. Emma weaves her way through carnage, steps light and soft. In a way this is all familar, because she lived through the rise of the zombies in Raccoon (but not without help). Even still, PTSD is a bitch, adding on the assassination attempts, various montsers she has seen, slowly her breath becomes shaken, yet for now it can be controlled. This is the way of things, fear happens, bravery is pushing on.

Her grey-green gaze, through locks of fallen hair spot Ned as the familar sound of zombies rush over her. Strange, it is, that man helping him up. Compelled, and with stick in hand - for she must have something to defend herself, the lass makes her way forward, stick held high until the unknown mans face is seen. Mid lift arms halt, pale skin pales more, freckles showing all the more. With the colour gone from her, and eyes wide with fear there is a fumble for words. She knows who this man is, what he has done.

And then Buck and another one went ahead to atack Nemesis. The surprising thing was that neither of them died. From Buck that was already expected, but from the other one... It was surprisingly strange. But even then, there was so much chaos. He quickly looked around the area assessing the assets his, allies, had in this fight against Umbrella. Because honestly, fighting against Nemesis too little firepower would certainly not end well.

But was there enough fire power? Maybe not, but personnel? They had Buck Rogers in the front. They had... that Alice? Or at least, something in Alice skin. They had himself, Sir Archene Night. And hopefully someone somewhere with enough forepower to deal a proper final hit into it, now. For now, however, he could at least attempt to further delay it, a number of bullets being shot towards Nemesis' head as he moved closer to it to ensure that his shots would have a better chance to properly hit its head. Should be distracting at least, "I'd have finished it already if I could!"

Ned's face is contorted in pain and general malaise as he lies on his back in the muddy ditch. At least, he'd hope that were mud, if he had the presence of mind to truly care what substance might befoul his person at this juncture.

The glasses are still on, though the lenses have cracked and the frames are bent, and he has to pinch them between his meaty fingers and pull them down his forehead to get a clear view of the sharp-dressed man standing over him. "Is... is that you, boss?" Ned asks with breathless bewilderment as he reaches one of his beefy arms - the one with the bandage where it previously was punctured by the wreckage of a destroyed chopper - up to let Lord Spencer help him to his feet.

"What the hell do they make that thing out of." The fact that Nemesis still hasn't gone down is bad, but the fact that things are getting worse by the moment doesn't help either, especially with all the newly risen zombies rising up around them.

He picks himself back up, swings forward and roundhouse kicks one of the zombies in the face, snapping it's neck and sending it to the ground. He continues to do his best to take out the rising undead before they can get going, but truth be told he doesn't know if he has enough ammo for this.

He holsters his pistols and picks up a pair of P90s from the ground, opting to use them to open up on the zombies and any surviving USS operators. He'll put shots in at Nemesis too, but he knows he can't go toe to toe with the big guy.

Caldwell has completely lost it, engaging in a fistfight to the death with Wesker of sorts. Attempting to slam his tentacles into Wesker over and over again. Screaming at the top of his lungs "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR! I HATED WHAT YOU'VE BEEN DOING SINCE THE START. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU!" he yells, continuing to slam his tentacles into Wesker while also delivering every punch and kick he can give. Screaming like more of an animal then a human being. Caldwell has slowly been losing his sanity since Raccoon City...and to think, he used to just be an ordinary STARS member.

With his redheaded savior in his peripheral, Buck lurches forward, sucking in a deep breath. His ribs disagree with that notion, a stitch in his side when the lungs inflate too much-- but he pushes through the pain, watching as Nemesis rears up in pain when Alice tickles its eyeballs. "Atta girl," he cheers her, lifting up his mask to spit a wad of blood and phlegm out onto the ground. The red drips from the corners of his mouth.

"You got a heart beatin' somewhere in there, big guy?" Buck asks the flailing monstrosity, looking it over. Between the pulsing masses, the tentacles, the machinery, hell if he knows what internal organs it has-- but one way or the other, Buck lunges, and stabs it right in the chest, sending wave after wave of electricity right through Nemesis!

Sadly, he doesn't notice Caldwell finally be a man, or see the fat man roly-poly his way to glory.

Wimp is totally out of his element. This situation is way worse than chasing down punks pushing on your turf or trying to heckle off your products as better than they are. This is the situation where Wimp begins to consider his life choices and where he is while slowly shifting to assume the poise and posture of a tree. With feeling. Using all of his muster to do his damndest in an attempt to grow bark and leaves and root into the ground that everything would pass him over for the time being.

Lord Oswell E. Spencer laughed at Ned's inquiry, "No, I am not just your boss, I am your God." He jammed a little syringe-injector with a modified version of the t-Virus before rapidly injecting what appeared to be a nemesis parasite in the back of Ned's neck with alarming speed, "Now, I give you new life."

Spencer then finds Emma face to face with him, the pretty young woman frozen in her tracks, a hand of his reached out to touch her cheek and he smiled, "Miss O'Connal, the ever-persistent little thorn in my side. Had I known you would be here, I would have saved that for you. I suppose, you shall be my ticket out of here."

With superhuman reflexes, Emma was quickly disarmed of all weapons and placed at the mercy of Spencer who grabbed her and began to walk away calmly, "We're going to have so much fun."

---

A group of zombies were heading right for the 'tree' which was just Wimp Lo and they are not turning back, but he is saved by the timely intervention of Nick with dual P90s. Unfortunately for the pair, more undead are coming and every friendly and USS soldier seems to be rising up at this point; some of them not even as zombies but as macabre marionettes, clearly not infected but being controlled by some other force.

----

Alice leaps off Nemesis as Buck, Stitch, Nick, and Archene finish it off with a combination of gunfire and melee attacks; the massive B.O.W. uttering one last cry before it drops to the ground; the fleshy mass still pulsating before Barry Burton uses the chopper to unload a salvo of rockets into it.

Alice smiles at Sitch before she jams her swords directly into Stitch's stomach and kicks the man aside. Multiple soldiers begin to bleed from their noses and clutch their heads in pain, the zombies getting them.

Buck and Archene begin to experience deep headaches, the pair of men dropping to their knees as they feel their minds being literally ripped apart by something.

----

Wesker is peppered with bullets from Stadler, a few of them even hitting Caldwell who is attacking with reckless abandon. Wesker cries out in rage, "No! It wasn't supposed to be like this, you fools! Don't you see, this is what Spencer wanted all along. The only way to stop him is to build our own world, one that we can control, one, that I control."

He jammed his fist straight through Caldwell's stomach and ripped out a bunch of the boys organs before bringing himself to his feet and staring at Rick, "You always were a fool and you will die a fool, just like your wife and kids."

Caldwell looks up towards Wesker, the light in his eyes slowly dimming as he drops to the floor, looking down at his chest as he watches his organs spill out of him, slowly towards Rick and a small smile filled with blood is formed. "I...did it...i'm a hero...right?" he asks before slumping onto the ground, no motion in sight from the young boy as he seems to have either passed out or died from the shock

Jon would show up, cursing a blue streak as he's beating back the zombies with whatever he can get his hands on. That pistol he was given? Yeah, he's using that to smack the zombies. It's probably actually still got the safety on as he'd suddenly show up next to Tree Lo and Nick. "What the hell is wrong with this place???"

It doesn't take a herculean effort to decide that RUNNING FROM ZOMBIES is a good thing. Nick, the bullethose that saved Wimp, and Jon asking what was happenineg are tossed a shout.

"Velma needs some help, put that gun-fu to use!" and decides to charge towards Emma's captor and offer Spencer a nice FIST TO THE FACE. Who disarms the damn medic anyway?! No thought here, no plan, just punch this goon in the face and give the girl a chance to escape.

As a member of the DSO, Nick is privy to all manner of intel. So he knows who Spencer is. When Nemesis goes down, Nick tosses the P90s aside, and then heads for Spencer. He has to figure out how to get in front of him, to save Emma.

He will use Wimp Lo's assault as a perfect distraction, moving to get into a flank position near Spencer, "Hey you old fuck. Game over." Wimp Lo should free Emma, just in time for Nick to fire a single round dead center into Spencer's forehead.

Emma saw the needle to into Ned's neck. Her heart sank. But before she knows it, Spencer has her disarmed, and grabbed, then damn near dragged along.

If only she had a chance to see the others, see how hurt they were. No, this was where she came to. This crushing moment.

He is strong, and even though this lass had in the past wanted death, to find once more that place of warmth and peace she had felt. To feel safe again, in this moment her fight or flight instincts kick in. Suprisingly to her, it's fight. Maybe deep down the will to live is stronger than she thought. There is a wave of Gaelic, likely her cursing at him as the lass tries to pull away.

"I - I know yer son, ya fuckin' bastard! Slime of - of th - tha earth. Yer - yer evil an' - an' hallow. I - i bet yer co - comp - compinsating fo - for having no fuc - fuckin' dick!" Yeah, trash talk may not be her game. But as she struggles she do her best to turn and kick in him the groin with hopes of getting away.

And the fight reached the lull again, as Rick could't fault Caldwell for what he was now. In the end, it was not about the strength you had, but what you did with that strength. This sort of thing... corrupted people. Maybe it had corrupted Caldwell, but he made the right choice in the end.

Rick let's the clip drop, loading his last, partially filled clip into the rifle once more. His eyes look to the fallen Caldwell, that whispered word heard, despite the din of battle. "Yes. Yes, you're a hero. You've done great." A small smile, right until the boy slumps down, and then it leaves his face in a cold fury as he looks to Wesker again. "It wasn't supposed to be that, either. I took oaths, Albert. Both on a parade ground to the Consitution and quietly in my head to other things. We were supposed to defend people, defend /this/ world. You saw that someone might become a tyrant and your response was to become one yourself. You're a monster. A monster in every sense of the word."

The words on his wife and child comes as a punch to the gut, but he couldn't allow him to beleive that now. The charging handle clacks forward on his M4. "Probably. Let's see how much of that diseased lump of flesh you're walking around in I can tear up before that happens."

Argh! Buck stumbles back and clutches his head, eyes squeezed shut. His head's crammed into a nutcracker, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut as thin trails of blood drip from the sides. He takes a knee, the blue coils of electricity around his sword fading, heart pounding as the pressure inside grows and grows.

He rips his ballistic mask off, along with the goggles and gas mask, forcing fresh air into his lungs before nausea overtakes him; the last thing he needs is to start vomiting inside his helmet. His hair clings wetly to his head, face stained with blood and sweat, and as he runs a hand through it.. he sees, in opposite directions, Emma being dragged off, and Wesker engaging two others.

Vengeance wins out over affection-- besides, Emma sold him out back in Paris, and Buck's never liked the TerraSave hippies. If she dies, that's just too bad. But Wesker?

"You tried to bomb me!" Buck roars, forcing himself back to his feet and charging Wesker. Rick's dialogue, Caldwell's heroism, Wesker's disbelief-- none of that matters to the enraged bull, who sees red metaphorically and literally as the little capillaries in his face weep, madness in his eyes. "You fucking cunt!"

"Valiant effort." Spencer said as Wimp Lo rushed in, releasing his grip on Emma a moment to grab Wimp Lo by the striking arm and twist it with an audible snap before flinging him away towards Ned with superhuman strength.

As Emma tries to get away from him, but instead decides to go for a kick to the groin, he smiles and it connects; and nothing happens, "You think you can hurt me." His hand darts out like a viper and grabs the young doctor's leg and he breaks it.

Nick Fox's bullet impacts dead in the center of Spencer's skull and it seems like he might go down, that would have taken anyone else out but it doesn't cause him to flinch. The flesh heals and the bullet is pushed out before he says to Nick, "Excellent shot, old sport."

----

Wesker spits on Caldwell's corpse in a sign of contempt before a man he has underestimated time and time again unloads onto him. Wesker dashes forward with inhuman speed, about to grab Stadler by the neck.

Then Buck Rogers happens.

Wesker is sent crashing into a concrete wall, the man clearly weakening as he attempts to reach for something within his jacket before grabbing Buck by the neck and beginning to squeeze the life out of him, "You are nothing more than a brute. I should have killed you a very long time ago."

Jon spits to the side as he'd watch the two men go after that other guy.. who promptly started snapping things like twigs. "What.. the.. fu-" Jon ducks a zombie's swing and smashes it in the face with that pistolwhip. Shaking his head, Jon takes off running, rushing at that man who Tree Lo and Nick went after. Well.. the one guy seemed kinda scrawny. Jon? he's a bit on the heavier side with muscle. Why not flex it and see if he can't catch the guy off guard with a football tackle. "Just like in highschool!" Jon grumbles to himself as he'd go to tackle Spencer!

Ned's eyes go wide as the syringe sinks into the flesh at the back of his neck. He opens his mouth to scream, but no words come - just a sick gagging and a subtle hiss, as if he were trying to shriek through a mouth full of cotton balls. Impossible ripples flow from his collar through the flesh of his shoulders and arms as his appendages splay to either side, bulging and bubbling with pockets of fat that swell his fingers to twice, then thrice their original size.

At the same moment, Ned's spine snaps with a sickening crunch.

It does so as the upper half of his body doubles backward at an angle that proves truly impossible for its biological infrastructure to support, the distorted hands planting against the ground as the epidermis of what could until moments ago be consider Ned's arms is stretched too thin to retain its integrity, pulled apart to reveal sinew and bloody meat underneath. Next, the legs begin to bulge and stretch at the knees, the pants ripping apart as the lower limbs take on a shape similar to that now possessed by Ned's arms as bony spikes burst his shoes and meat-paws apart.

For those with the stomach to keep watching, the reward is the sight of Ned's neck swelling and bloating like a monstrous case of goiter as the head and its dead, lifeless eyes slowly bend back toward the earth. Then, with a spray of blood and fat and bile, an eyeless mouth rips its way out of Ned's throat, a beak gnashing the flesh as tentacles flail around it, forming a grotesque head for the horrible human crab-monster.

One head is never enough, though, and with a disgusting *SHLOOP*, spiny teeth tear open a second maw along Ned's back, allowing all those entrails Ned doesn't need anymore to spill out to the ground as the second mouth forms under what one might tentatively label the underside of the monstrosity.

That's some bio-matter going to waste, though, and so a moment later, an enormous tongue dips out of the new mouth and wraps around the guts of the body's former tenant like an anaconda before scooping them back into the cadav'rous beast for redistribution.

Tatters of cheap, palm-tree covered pink fabric flutter to the ground as the creature lurches and continues to swell. The only thing that could remotely be identified as what was once Ned Bentley is the inverted sack of face-shaped flesh along the creature's throat.

Again it had risen, and again it had fallen. The Nemesis was down. But, one hand comes to his head as he falls to his knees. He grits his teeth as he feels that there is something attempting to blow his head up. He clings to his own hair, but shakes his head. He is supposed to be stronger than this. He IS stronger than this. This was nothing, nothing but a minor headache.

When he is back enough to his senses, he sees the world around him. He sees Wesker spiting upon a man, and a giant charging at him. On the other side, he sees Emma, Spencer and others in a fight. He couldn't leave Emma alone, she was one of those whom he had to protect, a friend. Even before he stood up, he fire a bullet at Specer. And then another, and another, and another, and *click*. "Tsk." With that he ran towards Emma, he /had/ to get... his Doctor away from there, to a doctor.

Rick is once again saved by another large monster that dashes in to smash aganist the target that's going to rip him to pieces. Good thing, too, because Rick didn't even have time to get a single shot off. With Buck smashing Wesker into a wall, however, Rick has another chance to do something. And it seemes at this point that what weapons he had weren't going to be enough. Which left him to his other tools. He adjusts his grip on his weapon, gripping the magazine and placing his hands on the trigger of his shotgun. Raising his voice. "To anyone who can hear me! The monsters are here. They're here, and they're angry. But we are /not/ going to let them win! We are not going to let this city decend into anarchy and darkness, where these perversions of flesh rule with some warped evolutionary perogative! /WE/ are civilization! We are what keeps the torch burning, that keeps the lights on, that keeps this world running! And we will not be stopped by these things!"

He says, as he approches Wesker, with his hand on Buck's neck. "And we're not going to be stopped by you, Colonel. You are /fucking releived/."

With that, he pulls the trigger on the underbarrel shotgun, close to Wesker, closer than he should be, expending every shell in the magazine to whatever sensetive spot he can find.

Wimp's knocked over towards the other guy-who-didn't-fight-probably and comes to the realization. "Ta ma de ni da pgu daple wo de shoub, xinzi shi yo wi wo de gongji? Shi xinzi yo wi wo de gongji?!" Wimp begins shouting to Spencer and hops back onto his feet shakily and moves off to the side, away from the terrible sounding thing behind him. He doesn't even want to look, he just wants to make some distance. Emma got hit for collateral and Lo can't contest that thing head on. And he doesn't want to even look at those terrifying sounds behind him. This reminds him of that one time..

Yeah, that one time. The Five-Fingers learned one of their houses had been covertly dug under and served as an entryway for the surrounding triads to funnel in from. What happened when they found out is they evacuated the family living there and set the damn house on fire. A pickup drove through the flaming, crumbling house and surprised everyone, ran over Lo and one of his brothers(tm). This was Lo's other arm, and it was a little worse than this. When he came home his sisters poured the soup-pot on his face and then started attacking him with pork ribs, scolding him for being a dumbass.

Yeah.. but this is probably way more traumatic if not as damaging. OWFUCK IT HURTS THOUGH

There is Wimp Lo. A man she recalls, the man with the rooster! But the lass doesn't have time to think because his arm is broken. And her kick, does nothing. It hurts her foot, but nothing like the pain of what came next. Her leg is snapped, torn, twisted and broke. It's a soul crushing, soul breaking pain. There is blood, flesh ripped open. It pools around her as she hits the ground hard, in her daze barely realising the Ned-crab forming through pain. Her head is spinning. Was that a shot fired at Spencer? Did he absorb it?! Pain, there is only pain. And tears, they draw lines through dirt on her freckled face.

The lass can't get up, can't run. Zombies, monsters, everywhere now. She can't even process Archene, or Nick, or Lo really. Or Jon who is trying to tackle."Yer - yer a - a wo - worse fa - father th - then a person, ya - ya fuc - fuckin' disappointment." She sputter to Spencer in her thick Gaelic accent.

"Trying to kill Oswell Spencer. It's proving harder than anticipated." Nick says, into his radio as he keeps his gun drawn on Spencer and keeps as much distance between himself and the man as he can. He saw what he did to Wimp Lo and Emma, and wants to make sure he has enough space to at least get a few shots off before the man closes the gap.

Seems there's a bigger problem than Spencer though, as the guy bursts from his own skin, "Shit." Nick isn't sure if he has enough skill to take down a superhuman like Spencer, but he's not about to give it up without a try, "C'mon Spencer. You've lost, everything you've built is crumbling around you, and I'm not gonna let you just walk out of here."

The other guys should, in theory, have that BOW under control...He hopes. He has his own BOW to deal with, after all. He drops back a step and then opens fire again, both weapons this time. Sure he can heal from a single shot, but he will he be able to heal from taking several at once? Probably, but Nick isn't about to go down without a fight.

Jon's heroic actions while not able to harm Spencer, do distract him long enough for Archene to swoop in like the hero he has always wanted to be; but never quite was.

Spencer seems to be getting annoyed and instead of killing Jon like he may have, he's distracted by Archene and the handiwork of his that Ned had become.

Jon is sent flying backwards towards a group of undead that were approaching, the creatures surrounding him from his position on the ground. Emma can see it all with startling clarity, as if it is happening to her in slow motion.

Another sacrifice for her life unless something was done.

"Archene." Spencer smiled at him, Archene recognized Spencer all too well. Spencer was his friend Derek. His pal from the USS, the only difference was the hair-color. Instead of salt and pepper hair, Derek had blonde hair.

"You've come a very long way. I'm so proud of you, unlike Albert, you have exceeded all expectations. You may not remember, but I molded you, shaped you. Think back Archene, think back after you were taken from your family." Spencer said to Archene, genuine sincerity in his voice as he began to walk away towards whatever escape he had waiting for him.

He was letting Archene take Emma to safety.

---

"Stadler, wait, don't! I can take you to them, I have them, they're----!" Wesker screamed in desperation as shotgun round after shotgun round was pumped into him, all the while the life was being choked out of Buck Rogers.

As Buck began to lose consciousness, he saw a spray of red obscure his vision as Albert Wesker's head was blown off by Richard Stadler.

Did Wesker truly have Richard's family somewhere..?

The headless corpse of Albert Wesker sank to the ground, the grip loosening on Buck who could finally breathe.

Richard's radio crackled to life, "Major Stadler, this is Captain White with the US Air Force. We were told you could use some help down there. We have A-10s incoming but without any designators on the ground, it's going to get messy. Get everyone out of that killzone, we're going to light that base up."

---

Nick Fox's shots slammed into Spencer who seemed to slow, staggering but not turning around. The mental image of Nick Fox materialized in the mind of Ned-Crab. It had it's target.

Jon grunts as he'd impact into Spencer. Boy.. was THIS the mistake of his life... Jon grits his teeth, doing his best to try and take Spencer down, even as the guy gets shot up by the other guy. At least it was doing.. something? No? nothing? Blast. Jon went to shift grip.. and that's when he got shoved off like a little 3 year old who's father decided enough was enough. Jon stared up into the sky a moment as he'd fly. "What the hell was I thinking..?" Is about all he gets to say, before gravity asserts itself and he slams into something soft and squishy. Well.. that was.. nice..? Jon realizes he just landed in the mess of zombies he had just fought out of and immediately starts flailing about to try and get them off of him! "AAAHHH!!!!"

The shotgun seems to fire round after round for almost an eternity, even as it was only five rounds. And he doesn't pause. Not when Wesker promsies him the one thing he would ever want in the world. Again, and again, and again, until that smug, sunglass-wearing face of his was hamburger. Until the last round, deep breath, to get some air, and then words over the corpse. "Good. Then I'll find them. I'll find them /myself/, because some devils you do not make deals with."

He's silent for a moment, the sounds of howling BOWs and chattering gunfire around him, before the radio call comes in. A part of him, beyond the revealations, beyond what he had to do, speaks. "Thank Christ. Air support." He breathed, before clicking on his radio. "Captain White. I'm glad you could pull your men off the 16th fairway for a few hours. We are pulling back. Suggested ordance load is Mark 22 firebombs, and white phosphourous. Danger close."

Radio's clicked off, as Rick's hands search Wesker's bloody corpse. It was a quick search, but he was looking for three things. His weapon, his cell phone... and his Colonel's insignea. If he finds any of them, they're pocketed, before he slaps a recovered Buck on the shoulder. "Can't rest, Rogers!" He says, pointing to Caldwell's body. "I need that thing extracted, and you're simply /bigger/ than me. I need your help."

And back on the radio. "To any and all on this net, we have close air support craft incoming, and fire will be /danger close/ and indescriminate! /Stop what you're doing and clear the permiter now/!"

"I can't order you to do anything, Fox. We've been informed by the Brits that Spencer has diplomatic immunity--- radio seems to be breaking up, Agent Fox, do you copy?" President Benson asked of Nick before saying to those in the room, "You need to get this radio fixed. Now!" Nick had been given Carte Blanche unless he was silly enough to reply what he had heard.

The newborn bioweapon lurches, its corpulent mass seeming as though it might cause its own newfound limbs to buckle under its weight as one leg lifts and bends inward before swinging out toward where Nick is standing and delivering. With a monumental effort the bladed toes dig in and pull the crab-creature forward, the macabre head turning toward the agent as another leg rises and jabs into the ground. It's the movements of a creature first finding its feet, though, and it seems as though it may be learning quickly!

The sound that issues forth from the creature is like the death-squeal of a smothered pig, followed by a keening from the beak-maw as the tendrils ondulate menacingly at Nick. The maw on the underbelly of the monstrosity cracks open, dripping blood and bile on the ground as the tongue slithers out with frightening speed, attempting to grab Nick 'round an ankle to drag the designated prey toward itself.

When Buck can breathe again, he's furious-- Wesker, dead, and not by his hands! That self-righteous prick interfered! Sure, Buck's ribs are broken, and his brain is bleeding, and Wesker had him in a bad situation.. but he would have overcome, damnit!

But there's an air strike coming, and hell, Buck owes Caldwell a proper burial, if nothing else. Sheathing his sword, he collects his face mask, marches toward the hefty man-monster, and throws him over a shoulder. The boy might be a hefty fella, but it's hard to find a better pack mule than Buck.

"Alright, Caldwell, let's go get you prettied up for your funeral," he rumbles, apathetic to the dangling organs and viscera that still spill from the kid's corpse. "Look at it this way, you're halfway to bein' a mummy."

In the distance, he sees the crab monster. He pauses, considers, and then keeps walking.

Wimp strong, even with one arm he dashes to help with Emma and drag her along with him to get out of the place if she wasn't uncooperative. "Cmon Velma help me out here, three legs better than one, I only got this arm to carry you out with." he explains in exasperation, "Can't leave Scooby and gang alone." and will try to escape with a medic in towe... avoiding Giant Enemy Crab and zambies as best as he can either way.

As Nick's radio crackles to life, he listens to the President's orders, and smirks a bit, "Guess it really is game over." He says, as he hears the second burst radio transmission from Stadler.

Of course before he realizes it, the crab monster is on him, grabbing him by a leg and hauling him up into the air. He has to get loose and get out of here. His weapons get holstered, and he grabs something off of his back, something he hasn't used since Raccoon City but has been carrying around just in case.

The spear crackles to life with electricity, and he whips the bladed end arond, to sever the arm holding him, and drop to the ground. No time to fight, he has to escape. So if he can't cut it apart, he's kind of screwed.

As long as he's freed though, he's going to book it, running for the exit...Their helo should be waiting for them, and those A-10s are enroute and won't discriminate.

Archene swooped like a hero. It wasn't every day he had the chance to look like one, the more he thought about how he did things, the more he was sure he was not one in the end. As Spencer was distracted, he quickly picked Emma up and started to move away from him. Only then did the similarities hit him. Yes, the hair color was wrong, but that was Derek...

And that was definitely not the best moment for finding again an old co-worker. Derek... he was truly a strange man, a pitty Archene had chosen to shoot save himself rather than drag him to death. Or maybe it was his luck, he'd probably have died that day if he had made the wrong choice.

While it could have been a wonderful reunion to be celebrated over a beer, the words coming from the familiar face were mildly distressing. With or without a minor headache, he knew what the man was trying to imply, what he was trying to do. He could dwell on that, but only later. After Emma was safe, after he was safe, after they were away from this place. No words from Spencer even made Archene slow down or look back, /specially/ due to the percieved sincerity in them. If the man is giving him a chance to move away, he would take it. Sir Archene Night wasn't one to lose good opportunities, at least, not today.

The HIND that Barry had been piloting hovered low, not quite landing but the experienced pilot kept it steady as he yelled out, "Everyone onboard, you've got a minute before I have to get airborne again." Anyone who didn't make it to the chopper would have to pray they got out of the killzone.

Her leg is a bloody mess. Emma, on the ground, leg twisted like a twizzler and bloody has brought her blinding pain. Eyes follow Jon as he flies into zombies, they move to the Ned-crab. Her dirty face has streaks from tears like rivers trying to cut through mud. All around her, horror and pain, and blood.

To finalize it, Spencer is escaping. She can do nothing, and barely react to Wimp Lo hauling her up onto that bloody stump of a leg. For a second she buckles, having no idea fire from above is coming.

That long red hair has fallen around her, the pretty lass a pretty damn good mess now. Struggling, there is a look at Archene, yet not is has a hint of fear. Of confusion. She heard Spencer talk to him.

Being a DSO undercover ninja assassin in the BLF had it's advantages at the time but now the dastardly plot has been finally uncovered and it was nearly time to reveal his true identity!

Benny was still sporting that hi-tech ninjalike helmet that covered his entire face during the fight against the USS and B.O.W.'s. His martial skills and nearly ARCHENE-like reflexes had kept him relatively unscathed during the battle but he was starting to wear down a tad, his armor was splattered with blood and zombie guts as he prefered melee rather than ranged attacks.

He had just decapitated another zombie when he saw Jon's heroic act of bravery to save Emma. Thank goodness his red headed baking friend was safe because now he could try to save her savior instead of worrying about her!

Without much thought for his own safety, he swung his sword in tight arcs around him and cut a path through the zombies to get to poor Jon before he was completely overwhelmed.

"Hang on!" He yelled in that synthezied voice by his helmet in the hopes that Jon would not give up hope and keep fighting until he reached him. The A-10's were certainly on their way soon and he was determined to not leave anyone behind before they tore this entire place up.

Jon grunts and flails. That's about all he has as the horde almost overwhelms the guy.. Is.. is this really the end? "Hang on!" Is yelled at Jon and he'd spare only a glance at the epic ninja assassin dude comes flashing in with blades flying and opening enough of a space for him to get to his feet and break free in a full on sprint. "Thanks!! Now let's get the hell outta here!!!"

Archene looks back at her, his face a bit pale for a number of reasons. He is only able to answer, "I'm Archene, Emma. Same as always, don't worry." He smiles, "He is trying to, mess with our minds." His usual sigh follows his words, "Everything will be better, soon."

Everyone still alive makes it onboard the chopper, but not everyone who had come here was still alive.

Poor William Caldwell had paid for the follies of his youth with his own life. Ned had been dragged along into things he had no place being at and in a case of wrong place, wrong time; had become a horrifying monster.

Jon and Archene are the last two on the chopper as it takes off and Barry is not wasting any time lifting off. There aren't many survivors and the A-10s are closing in.

As the helicopter lifts off, the group of you can see the A-10 Fighters, flying tanks basically, moving in to attack everything and anything in sight on the grounds of the base. Thanks to Richard Stadler, it's not just an assault, but a mass bombing. Insurance that monstrosities like poor Ned would not survive to see the light of day.

There is no sign of Lord Oswell E. Spencer or Lisa Trevor as the bombs begin to drop, covering the entire base in fire.

In the distance the sun begins to set over the jungle as reports begin to roll in from Maracaibo about the Outbreak being contained.

"Good work out there guys. Sorry about Caldwell, and your friend." Barry said before resuming his focus on piloting.

Jon makes it on, panting and looking rather sweaty too. He'd stare out at the jungle. Grunt. "I.. I don't feel so good.." Which is promptly followed by that sickening sound of Jon.. getting sick. Wait.. was that spagetti? He'd cough afterwards, shaking his head. "ugh.."

Benny nods to Jon as he runs past to head to the CHOPPAH and quickly cuts down any zombies or USS that get in the way. Even though he's been masquerading as an evil dude for his latest mission and has done some rather questionable things to maintain his identity, he hopes that his actions here today will change some people's perceptions of him now.

Taking inspiration from some comic book hereos to create this undercover identity was part of his master plan after all.

Once he jumps on board the chopper after everyone else has gotten on, he slowly removes his helmet. Yes, his face has been altered marked with scars, facial hair and his hair is much longer but when he speaks it is very Benny-like. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...poor Will. He was one of the bravest men I have ever known...he will be missed." He then hangs his head in a moment of silence after staring out the window of the chopper, turning his eyes when the bombs go off and looks pensive. "Hey, Arch...Emma. Glad you made it out." He says to them in a soft voice as if no time has passed since he last saw them, which was quite a while ago in reality. "Is everyone okay?" he glances around the helicopter to assess the situation.

What the ever-loving-hell is going on! What's going on!! Archene and Spencer, now.. Benny, is just there. She needs a second to process, it sounds like him but not quite looks like the comic book guy she knew. "B - Benny?" The lass mutters softly, in total disbelief. Suddenly she feels the weight of the cloud that has been masked around her. Does she really know anyone anymore? Still, a part of her would do the typical tackle hug but well, her leg doesn't lool like a leg much. Bone and blood everywhere.

Then there is Jon. She spots the veins, the look. Just as suddenly she lurches from her spot, crying out in pain, but trying to reach for Jon. "He - he is infected!!! He - he is turnin' he - he needs ta g - get tha vaccine now!"

"Eh," Buck mutters, dumping Caldwell on the floor like a sack of feed and squatting down, removing his face mask. "If he turns, we'll chuck him out of the helicopter. Isn't that what they like doing down here?"

Jon tightens his grip on the edge of the seat. He'd glance over at Buck, eyeing the big guy and shaking his head. "Man.. I don't even know what the hell they do down here. I'm suppose to be on vaccation and.. this.. this.. crap! Just blows up! Everywhere! I mean.. what the hell?" He'd shift, weaving a little as he'd look like he would get ill again, stopping it just before he does with a grunt of pain.

"You seem to have vacationed your way into the middle of a major military operation." Nick says to Jon, as he reaches up to touch his ear, "Sir are you there, come in." He's trying to reach the President on the radio again, now that the airstrike has finished.

Archene doesn't seem to notice Emma internal predicment. Nor does he even seem to notice the possible zombie. At Benny, he glances and gives a smile, saying no words. The man doesn't look all to well himself, Benny that is. Archene is just, Archene as he glances out the window, his mind certainly on another matter. Today, it had many matters to focus on.

Benny gives Emma a slight nod, his eyes lock onto her's and he drops his quasi-Bobba Fett persona to let her see that it is truly him. Unfortunately he isn't wearing his Pikachu shorts at the moment or else that would surely convince even the most die-hard doubters. "Don't get up Emma...you need /medical/ attention yet again and a bubble shield." Then when she blurts out that Jon is possibly infected, his attention quickly turns to the injured man.

"What the?! Quick, somebody administer a vaccine and grab a hold of him just in case." But then there is Buck saying he will toss the infected man out of the Choppah and knowing Buck as he does, he will do just that and no newly turned zombie man could stop the Behometh. He then looks over towards Nick, another fellow DSO and gives the man a small nod. He hasn't officially told anyone he belongs to the team and he won't start blabbing that right now. Instead he just keeps a close eye on Jon, not wanting to startle the man any further if he's going to throw up and turn into an undead walker.

The survivor of the Maracaibo Outbreak and the final battle against Wesker lunged towards Carlos Olivera's leg and tried to tear through the body armor on his leg.

"Fuck!" Carlos called out before he began to fire his rifle at the creature with what should have been tactical precision but was instead sent wildly around the passenger compartment of the chopper as the random everyday man-turned hero-turned zombie bit into Carlos's flesh.

The assault rifle fire sprayed indiscriminately, several rounds hitting key systems and even the pilots in the forward compartment.

The helicopter is going down. It spirals and sharply drops, everyone inside being tossed to and fro. At this point, there's no way to get out, and there's no way to make sure he lives other than hoping for the best and trusting in his freakish constitution.

But before they hit the ground, he does lurch toward the turned Jon, and aim to vigorously chuck his ass out of the helicopter.

Benny blinked as this unfortunate turn of events, watching the carnage around him from Jon biting into Carlos, then the spray of assault rifle fire and grabbed a hold of something to keep his balance as the Choppah began it's deadly sudden descent. "What the...Fuck my life..." He then plops his helmet back on, like that would make much of a difference but hey you gotta protect the melon. "Well, guys it was an honor and probably for the first time in my life...I'm not that hungry, huh." He manages a slight shrug and grins beneath his helmet. "Markus is going give us shit for this..."

To note, Emma did notice the 'old Benny' lool but, well, they are tumbing to death now. She had fallen from her seat in trying to get to Jon, her disaster of a leg hindering her. At most, she grasps intp the belts of her seat, holding on for dear life, muttering in Gaelic under her breath. Eyes are closed tight.

Helicopter.exe has encountered an error and has been deleted. Wimp Lo is having a moment. Life in China has taught him one thing. "TA MA DEEEEEEE" he shouts as the chopper is going down. Triad is good though. As things go to shit, he does the most fucking inspired thing he can think of. "Sparky, you better not eat all the bread by time I get home! Oh, while we falling, who wants to buy this suit?" jumping into the air before aicfmsnuinidamsecnfksiufnsi happens and flapping his good arm. That'll help some! Maybe. He had to sell this damn suit :|